


The Means to Go On

by quantumoddity



Series: Everything's Okay AU [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Abuse Mentions, Alex actually says no to this, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Female Friendship, Fix-It, The Reynolds Pamphlet, i just want everyone to be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 18:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9249416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumoddity/pseuds/quantumoddity
Summary: And now, when she held Susan as she drifted off in her arms, she could now whisper that it would be okay one day. That one day they’d be able to escape.For once in her life, Maria could offer her precious daughter something they’d both been to scared to take hold of before.She could give her hope.A Reynolds Pamphlet fix it fic, planned out by the wonderful minky-for-short and written up by me!Comments and feedback are appreciated





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MinkyForShort](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinkyForShort/gifts).



Alexander would be lying if he said there wasn’t a moment.

It was only a split second’s worth, shorter than one of his loud, erratic, terrified heartbeats. Where the stranger, the scared looking young woman who’d turned up at his office that afternoon completely unannounced and caught him off guard in more ways than one, where her lips on his had grabbed him. Alex had tasted comfort and heat in that kiss, the kiss that had come out of nowhere; she’d just grabbed him as he’d turned to leave her living room. He’d come so close to…

But Alex had woken up quickly. After that single moment of hovering on the edge, he remembered that these lips weren’t the ones he wanted. The hands roughly, almost frantically clinging to the lapels of his suit weren’t the ones he missed so much his heart ached. He’d been so desperate for any kind of comfort but this…this wasn’t right.

He wanted Eliza. He wanted his wife. But she wasn’t here.

Alex jumped back, breaking the contact suddenly, his eyes wide with shock. He found himself against the wall, tripping over the threadbare couch, breathing heavily.

“No,” he stammered frantically, his voice hoarse, “No. I…this…I’m sorry, I don’t know what you thought Mrs Reynolds but, God, I’m married.”

He realised how young this woman was in that moment, as she stood in the middle of the tiny, sparse apartment, her cheeks burning, her eyes filling with tears. He noticed how she’d started to twist her fingers anxiously, staring down, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. Despite the way she’d gazed at him as she’d leaned in his office doorway, the way she’d taken his hand and pulled her close after he’d offered to walk her home. Despite all that, the sudden and disarming flirtatious edge to her movements, it looked like she hadn’t enjoyed the kiss either. Almost like, even with her actions, it wasn’t her idea.

“I need to go,” Alex said quickly, his heart stammering, “Good night Mrs Reynolds.”

He’d fled all the way to the front door before he heard the soft sobs, shuddering and wretched and so sad. His hand stopped on the doorknob, his whole body freezing.

It only took him a second to make his decision.

 

The young woman was weeping brokenly, not even covering her face, just letting the tears run down. It was like she’d just stopped caring.

“Mrs Reynolds…” Alex began, awkwardly, gingerly putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped suddenly, grimacing through her tears and stepping back to break the contact, “Please.”

Alex frowned, putting his hands up, placating, “Okay. I’m sorry. Um…”

She had given him her first name, back in his office what felt like years ago, as she’d asked him for some financial help.  But everything that had happened since then, it had sort of knocked it out of his mind.

“Maria,” she wrapped her arms around herself, shrinking in front of his eyes, her head bent in misery. She said her own first name like it was something shameful.

“Maria,” Alex repeated, wanting to reach out and comfort her but it really looked like she didn’t want to be touched, “Maria, I’m sorry but is there something wrong? Is there anything I can help you with?”

He’d already loaned her some money, that had apparently been the whole purpose of her unusual midnight visit to his office, but Alex was starting to get the sense that this was the kind of problem thirty dollars wasn’t going to fix.

“I’m beyond help,” Maria murmured sadly, her hair falling over her face, clinging to the tear tracks.

Alex frowned. Why didn’t she push it behind her ear? Why did she let it cover half of her face, one of her eyes completely concealed?

“Maria, at least let me try?” he said softly.

He hated to watch people upset, he hated feeling powerless. It wasn’t in his nature to accept that there were things he couldn’t change.

Maria fixed her wide, dark eyes on him for the first time since she had appeared in the doorway of his office. Before now it had been sideways glances, looking at his eyes but never quite in them, pupils flickering and travelling nervously. She hadn’t wanted to think of him as a person, as a man with a wife and children and a life. The kind of life she wanted but would never have.

No, Maria hadn’t let herself think about that. Alexander Hamilton just had to be a means to an end, a way of getting what she wanted, what she needed. Not the thirty dollars currently tucked away in the pocket of her jeans. That would very quickly become whiskey down James’ throat. What she needed was another day’s safety for her daughter.

In the week since James had grabbed her wrist and told her in no uncertain terms what she was to do, how she was to approach Hamilton and seduce him, blackmail him, all Maria had been able to see Alex as was a key to protecting her Susan.

But now she looked at him.

He looked…sad. Scared. Lonely. Exhausted. Like everyone he loved was far away and he missed them terribly, burying himself in his work to forget that fact.

Maria could understand that.

“It’s my husband,” she admitted after a deep breath, her voice suddenly flat and devoid of emotion, “He beats me. He threatens to beat our daughter if I don’t do what he says. He cheats on me. And he told me that I was supposed to go to your office, get you to sleep with me so he could blackmail you for money.”

Alex blinked, his jaw falling open a little as he absorbed that. That was…interesting.

But most of it could be shoved to one side for now. There was only one part of this that was screaming at him.

“He beats you?” Alex repeated carefully, his voice dangerously quiet.

Maria gave him a twisted facsimile of a smile and pushed her curtain of dark hair back.

Alex felt sick at the sight of the bruise that fell across her eye and the beginning of her cheek, yellowing against her teak skin. When he looked at it, for an instant, Maria’s face shifted and melted, turning into someone else. Someone who’s features he only half remembered, seeing scraps of it in his dreams, his nightmares, in the faces of his children. He’d seen that face when it was bruised and beaten and it had broken his heart as a child.

And it broke his heart now.

“Oh god, Maria…” Alex groaned, stepping forward on instinct to reach out for her, making her flinch away again. Because of course she did. When was the last time anyone approached her with anything other than anger and violence?

“I’m sorry,” he backed off immediately, his hands dropping to his sides.

Maria blinked and nodded slightly, letting her hair fall back down, hiding the awful mark on her face. But they both knew it was there.

“Maria, let me help you. Let me do something,” Alex sighed, hating the familiar feeling of helplessness, of uselessness.

The young woman just shook her head, resignedly, “What can you do? You don’t think I’ve been trying for years to find a way out of this? There is no hope for me.”

She spat the word hope, like she was saying the name of some awful poison.

Someone so young didn’t deserve to feel like that, Alex thought darkly, his hands balling into fists. He suddenly felt the strong desire to beat the shit out of this Reynolds guy.

“But you can’t live like this!” Alex exclaimed in frustration, the sound bouncing off the walls in the tiny apartment.

Maria shrank back a little from his raised voice; Alex felt a stab of guilt. He couldn’t help thinking back to that split second, that heartbeat, where he’d been so ready to take advantage of this poor woman, to break his Eliza’s heart. What he’d almost become…

“I have to,” Maria murmured, her eyes growing dark, slipping back under into the emotionless state she’d survived so many years with, “You have children don’t you, Mr Hamilton? A daughter?”

Now it was Alex’s turn to flinch. He missed her, his little girl. He missed them all so much, “Yes. Her name is Angie.” Angel, that was what he called her.

“And what are you prepared to do to keep her safe?”

That was a hard question to think about but easy to answer, “Whatever I had to do. Anything.”

Maria’s eyes fell, “Then you understand. That there’s no way out for me.”

Alex blinked. He took a breath. His brain began to start working, ideas forming, constructing, building.

“What was the plan? After tonight?” he asked quietly, his hand moving up to scratch at his goatee, the way he always did when he was thinking.

Maria’s face flushes, “To get you to invite me back. Two nights from now.”

Alex feels a little ill, the idea that someone had actually plotted to ruin him, like they were in some kind of hackneyed political drama. He knew he pissed a lot of people off on a daily basis, he just had no idea it would come back to hurt him like this. And not just him. Eliza. His kids.

Maria.

“Do it,” Alex nods, “Be at my place on Thursday.”

Maria blinked at him, her expression turning sour. She’d thought…after risking everything and telling him, he still wanted to…

“Let _him_ think whatever he wants,” Alex continued, his voice picking up speed, “But you and me will figure this out. Bring your daughter, if you want. It’ll be okay. You’ll be safe.”

That last word caught with Maria, her face relaxing. Safe.

It had been so long since she’d felt safe, since she’d dared hope that Susan might be safe. Since she’d dared hope, full stop.

But here she was.

“Okay,” Maria nodded.

 

It was only when he was back on his front doorstep, after practically sprinting home, that everything hit Alex. He rested his forehead against the wood for a long few moments, trying to make sense of it all, the nauseating mix of panic and anger, unwelcome old memories surging up in his chest. It was…a lot.

So Alex did what he always did when living in his own head became unbearable. What he should have done weeks ago, when he started feeling himself come undone at the edges.

He pulled out his phone, still out there on the stoop, sinking down on the steps heavily, and he called Eliza.

He didn’t try and bullshit her, the way he had been doing since they’d left the city for the summer. He didn’t try and hide his exhaustion and his fears; he didn’t try and pretend that everything was okay when they both knew it wasn’t.

“Alexander!” Eliza answered after just a few tones, even though it was nearly two in the morning. He had a brief moment of worry as to why she wasn’t getting any sleep before the warmth and affection in her voice made him want to cry.

“I love you, Eliza,” he sighed. They were the only words on his lips.

He could almost picture her heart shaped face crumpling with worry, it was right there in her voice, “I love you too, Alex. What’s the matter?”

He gave a small, crooked smile, “Okay, this is going to be a little hard to explain…”

Of course Eliza’s first instinct was the same as Alex’s, to track down this James Reynolds and hurt him. He only just managed to convince her to stay put, to spend the rest of the summer with her parents as planned, there was no sense in uprooting the children and fixing this was going to take subtlety. Still, she’d paced and growled and spat in fury for nearly forty minutes, Alex holding the phone so close to his ear there was a mark. But once her anger had given way to the selfless determination that came to her as natural as breathing, they began to talk. They talked for hours, until Alex could see morning light starting to filter in through the blinds of his living room.

“Have you slept at all tonight?” he rasped, running his fingers through his hair, frowning at the dawn.

Eliza’s voice cracked with similar exhaustion but he could still hear the tease in it, “Have you?”

She had him there; Alex smiled fondly. “You need your rest, Eliza, c’mon.”

“What I need is to rescue that poor girl and her daughter,” she sighed, though it sounded like she was stifling a yawn.

“We will, Eliza. We’ve got a plan,” he promised, wondering how someone so selfless and good had found it in them to love him, “It’s going to be okay.”

He heard her adorable little huff as she finally relaxed, “Alexander?”

“Yeah, Betsey?”

Any tension still between them, any anger left over from Alex’s impulsive, careless decision not to go to Albany with her and the kids, the problems and worries he’d been hiding from her in a misguided attempt to protect her, the shock of having this distressing situation tipped into their laps with no warning, the dregs of it all blew away with that one word. That was the name he used in their most gentle and close moments, in the middle of the night when they found themselves searching for each other, when she worried about her appearance, when he saw each of their children in her arms for the first time, whenever he knew she needed to be reminded of how much he loved her.

“Thank you for telling me. I’ve…I’ve missed you,” Eliza confessed, her voice quiet.

That was when the tears spilled down his cheeks. He was tired, he was sad, he was scared and he loved her so, so much, “I’m sorry Eliza. I’m not going to shut down again, I promise.”

There was a bitter taste in his mouth as he spoke and he thought he knew why. Of course he hadn’t told her about that split second, that moment of doubt, the thought of it made the tight knot of self-hatred that always lived at the pit of his stomach start to writhe.  He was never going to admit to that. But standing here now it felt so ridiculous, how could he ever have doubted that the woman on the other end of the phone was his soul mate?

“I know you won’t, Alex. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he murmured, “Talk to you soon.”

As difficult as this situation was, it felt so good to be fighting the same fight again, on the same team.

The way Alex and Eliza were supposed to be.

 

The first time was a little awkward. Maria stood in the hallway, her arms hugged defensively around herself, like that was where they naturally fell. Her eyes cast around at the toys and crayons and books, still scattered about the place despite the fact that the kids had been gone for weeks (Alex couldn’t bear to move them). Her eyes grew wide at all the pictures on the walls, of Mr Hamilton and a pretty woman with dark, kind eyes and a warm smile, a crowd of children that had a mix if their features. Children that looked like they’d spent their lives certain of their safety and their parent’s love, who’d never had to comfort their mother as she sobbed on the bathroom floor, nursing a fresh bruise. Maria felt like she was standing in the middle of a daydream, something that shouldn’t actually exist- a loving family home.

It made her lip curl, to think of what she’d been sent here to do, the instructions James had hissed in her ear as he’d gripped her wrist hard enough to leave marks. What, in another universe, she’d be seconds away from doing right now. Forced into using her body to break apart this family, to burn down all the domestic safety and comfort she saw.

Her heart began to beat faster, she felt the familiar grip of a panic attack. She wanted to run…

“Maria?” Mr Hamilton’s voice called her from the kitchen, “Are you going to come in?”

She blinked, following the sound through the unfamiliar house before she lost her nerve. Before she was really aware of what was happening, there was a mug of something hot and nice smelling in her hand and he was talking, talking at a pace that would be worrying for most other people but she got the sense that this was just who he was.

“So, I guess you need to be here at least an hour so he doesn’t get suspicious, maybe two to be on the safe side but I understand if you want to get back to your daughter. You can do whatever you want really, you can read or watch TV or anything or we can talk if that’s what you want, otherwise I’ll just be in my office…”

The sound of the mug hitting the tiles and splintering shocked them both. Maria could hear Mr Hamilton repeating her name as she sank to the floor, shaking, her vision blurring as the panic attack that had threatened her out in the hall found her and leaped on her. It was a familiar sensation but what was very unfamiliar was the hand on her shoulder, the faint but vaguely comforting voice in her ear, there and present until the tight grip loosened and she had control of her own mind again.

“You’re okay, Maria. I’ve got you, you’re alright,” Mr Hamilton was saying in a low, steady voice, sat next to her. He retracted his arm quickly, remembering that she didn’t like to be touched but the tide of comforting words continued.

“I know,” she murmured after a while, blinking hazily, to make him stop. But it was so strange…she wasn’t lying. She knew she was okay. She believed him.

That was unfamiliar.

Mr Hamilton studied her carefully, “You’re sure?”

Maria nodded. And it wasn’t a lie, it really wasn’t.

And then there was a glass of water in her hand. A cookie. Mr Hamilton explaining that she needed to get some sugar into her, that she needed to keep hydrated, almost like he had memorised how to recover from a panic attack.

He saw the question in her face, shrugging in the way people did when they were trying to pass off something that was a very big deal as something that wasn’t, “I’ve been on medication for stuff like this since I was in college, Maria. I’m familiar.”

That made her blink, that surprised her. She’d thought that only people who were as messed up as she was had problems like this, people who on some level…deserved it.

So either Mr Hamilton deserved it too. Or…she didn’t. Either way, they had something in common and Maria felt less alone.

“I think I’d like to talk, Mr Hamilton,” she answered his earlier question, her voice calm and level.

He grinned, it was a little manic but oddly infectious, “Sure thing, on one condition?”

Maria tensed.

“You call me Alex,” he shrugged casually.

 

After that, the next few weeks fell into some kind of strange but comfortable pattern. Maria would simply sit in the Hamilton’s living room or his office with him, reading, actually reading just for fun the way she used to do when she was younger and life was easier. Or she’d watch TV, the worst, most mind numbing shows because why not? That was what normal people did and here, Maria could feel normal. She even started to sketch again. It had been a long, long time before she’d done any art.

Alex was good company, she could see why so many people seemed to like him but also why so many people seemed exasperated by him. He pulled no punches; he just spoke like there was no filter between his mouth and his brain. It was bemusing and a little scary for someone like Maria, who’d spent their life having to keep quiet. She actually enjoyed perching on the sofa in his office, listening to him as he raged and ranted about that ‘dickass Jefferson, oh my god, Maria you wouldn’t believe…’ She got the sense that he’d been very lonely, that he was missing his family and was glad to have someone to talk to and, hey, she was more than happy to listen.

It was hard, to leave that warmth and friendship and go back to her apartment with the dents in the walls left by James’ fists and the damp and the bare walls. But her husband left her alone these days, now he thought she was funding his drinking and gambling every night by sleeping with a married politician. And she’d take sneering glances of disgust over blows and threats against Susan any day.

And now, when she held Susan as she drifted off in her arms, she could now whisper that it would be okay one day. That one day they’d be able to escape.

For once in her life, Maria could offer her precious daughter something they’d both been to scared to take hold of before.

She could give her hope.

Maria still couldn’t help the nervousness that flared up in her chest the first time Alex handed her his phone, saying that his wife wanted to talk to her.

She heard so much about Eliza, all it would take was a mention of her name and Alex would go on for hours about her, rambling unashamedly about how great she was, how much he loved her. He didn’t hide any of his emotions, anger and frustration or love and affection. That kind of open and unashamed trust and devotion just seemed so alien to her, something from a fantasy novel, something made up. But there it was, written plainly on Alex’s face.

And it had been her job to tear that down.

So she’d stood shivering with anxiety before blinking and taking the phone hurriedly before she lost her nerve. It would be okay. Wouldn’t it?

“Hello, Maria?” the voice was low, gentle, the kind of voice you’d expect someone who spent their life taking care of children in need to have.

“H-hello,” Maria hated the tremble in her voice, making her sound scared.

“Oh it’s so wonderful to talk to you!” Eliza’s voice flooded with brightness, like she actually meant the words she was saying, like it wasn’t just an empty sentiment, “Alex has been telling me so much about you, I’m so glad we’re able to help you. Now, listen, can I ask you a question?”

Maria blinked, panic rising in her throat “Um…”

“Make sure Alex sleeps for me? And eats? And takes his meds? I’m being serious; knock him out if you must. I worry I’m ninety per cent of his impulse control and he reverts back to a college student when I’m not around…”

Maria hadn’t been expecting that. Although now she thought about it, there were an awful lot of empty pizza boxes piling in the kitchen, Alex had worn that shirt twice already this week. She had a feeling Eliza might be right.

“Oh god, what am I saying, you’ve got yourself to look after. Sorry, it’s been a while…”

“Um, no?” Maria nods, her voice a little more confident, “I can do that, sure. It’s no trouble.”

There was a relieved sigh from the other end, “You are a saint, Maria. Thank you so much.”

From there they just started talking, like it was the easiest thing in the world. Eliza had this way of setting people at ease, of finding a way past barriers and making opening up feel easy and right.

Now whenever Maria was at the Hamilton’s Eliza would call, spending half of her time with her husband and then asking to be passed to Maria, to see how she was doing. Alex started to wonder whether introducing the two of them had been a good idea, every time he heard Maria exclaim “No way!” laughing and glancing over at him surreptitiously.

“Maria, I swear whatever my wife’s telling you it isn’t true! That think with the roller-skates at the park was one time, okay? One time!”

And so Maria went from having no friend in the world to having two people willing to put in so much effort to help her, to make sure she and Susan could be happy and safe and free.

To give her some hope.

The three of them had a good laugh over the letter that eventually arrived in James Reynolds’ scrawling hand, demanding money from Alexander Hamilton or he’d reveal his sordid affair with Maria.

“Sordid? He actually used that word?” Alex howled with laughter, leaning against his desk for support, “Oh Jesus…”

Eliza, who’d come home a week ago and had been hugging Maria at every opportunity since, was giggling uncontrollably, “When did our lives become a really terrible soap opera?”

Maria didn’t say anything, she just laughed. She had a really nice laugh, she realised, musical and ringing and alive.

She’d forgotten what her laugh had sounded like.

For some strange reason, Maria cried. When Eliza came flying into the kitchen, her eyes bright, taking hold of the pacing Maria by the shoulders and breathlessly explaining that it was okay, everything was fine, it was over. She’d confronted James, she’d explained the whole situation, that Maria and Alex had done nothing, that the only one in any kind of trouble was James himself. That if he came anywhere near Maria or Susan, he’d be arrested. Or simply punched in the face, quite happily by Alex or Eliza.

“He’s out of your life, Maria. Aaron sorted it all out, the divorce has been finalised, the paperwork’s all done,” Eliza explained, holding her securely, a smile growing on her face, “You’re safe.”

And for some reason, either because of relief or joy or fear or disbelief that she was actually standing where she’d dreamed of standing for so long, Maria cried her eyes out.

And all Eliza did was hold her, stroking her hair gently and murmuring comforting words.

“W-where are we going to go?” Maria murmured after her sobs turned to hitching breaths, her voice cracking, “We’ve got nowhere to live…”

Eliza gave a gentle laugh, squeezing her friend’s shoulders comfortingly, “With us, of course! We’ve got plenty of space, Susan can share with Will, you can have the spare room…”

And on and on, plans and fixes for all the little problems that could possibly spring up, taking Maria’s worries and shrinking them down until they could be held and carried easily.

After a while, Eliza ran out of words, just holding Maria closely.

“It’s going to be okay, hon. I promise.”

And for the first time in years, Maria’s face broke into a wide smile as she buried her face in Eliza’s shoulder, “Yeah. I know.”

 

 Maria Lewis had never believed in God. But she would always thank whoever might be up there for the day she walked into Alexander Hamilton’s life.

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang on tumblr, I'm quantum-oddity


End file.
